


School for the Troubled

by BuddhaForMary



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: High School AU, Human AU, Insane AU, Multi, oh there's soome cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddhaForMary/pseuds/BuddhaForMary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair Benedict McConnell (birth name Alistair Kirkland) is a 17 year old boy from Scotland. He is a sociopath with borderline personality disorder.<br/>Cecilia Pasquelina Vargas (Fem Romano) is an 18 year old girl from Naples, Italy. She is a dramatic narcissist with no desire to live.<br/>Ivan Braginsky is a 17 year old boy from Omsk, Russia. He is a bipolar pyromaniac with a dark past.</p>
<p>Ryder Alicia Williams is a 15 year old thrown into their world of chaos at Stockholm Boarding School for the Troubled, or SBST as the students call it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: So It Began...

_Pain. Crippling, numbing pain, coursing through my veins. A pain of loss, a pain of sorrow, and a pain of hopelessness. The words brought me to where I was now: sitting on the bathroom counter, holding a bottle of Oxycontin in my hands. The orange bottle rested gently in my long pale fingers, the fingers on the hands I'd inherited from my father, who now lay dead in a morgue somewhere in downtown Toronto._

_"A car accident," my mother had screamed, breaking down into the arms of her mother, my loving grandmother. "The other driver was drunk and he couldn't stop and..."_

_ _I_ _rem_ _ember the way her sobs had faded away and how the world had fallen silent in my mind. The words "car accident" resonated with a hollow sort of meaning. I stopped to try and think: when had I ever known someone who died in a fucking car accident? The answer to that was a glaring never. So, I re-opened my ears for a moment and let my lips move._ _

_"Who died?"_

_They'd whirled around, not noticing my presence beforehand. I had a way of observing without being observed. My grandmother looked at my mother, who, in her shock, had stopped crying. They stared at each other for a lingering moment that caused a tension I'd never felt to fill the air. They stared at me until I began to fidget, and mustering the loudest, firmest voice I had, I repeated my question. "Who died, Mom?"_

_The way her face crumbled hasn't left my mind to this day. She ran out of the living room screeching unintelligible phrases, and I heard the bathroom door on the other side of the house slam shut. I turned to my grandmother. She looked me directly in my eyes and frowned a little. Her dark grey eyebrows had furrowed, and her eyes glinted with solemnity. She pulled me aside with her and sat me on the couch next to her. She placed her hand on my knee, and I felt a wave of hysteria begin to rise in my chest. I nearly screamed. "What happened, Nana? Wh-what happened?"_

_She pressed those thin, wrinkled lips together before speaking in her voice, slow and steady, like the beat of a war drum. "Ryder, your... your father got into a car accident last night, sweetie. He was driving home from the New Years' party he'd attended at a friend's house. He was sober, but unfortunately the man that hit him wasn't. Sweetie, your father died this morning at ten."_

_She tried to hold me and tried to comfort me, though at first I felt nothing. There was nothing to feel. I'd lived with my grandparents my entire life, due to my parents being very busy executive producers to a local news station in the area. I didn't know my parents all that well to begin with. However, as I explored that thought more, the sadness welled up in my throat. I recall beginning to hyperventilate, and screech much like my mother had done before me. I recall my grandmother trying to hold down my arms as they waved around, as I tried to calm down. I could not. I had never known my father, and because I'd never even tried, he died. It had been my fault. He died not knowing whether his daughter loved him or not. His quiet, nearly invisible daughter. He could have known me, if I'd have tried._

_But now, he was gone._

_Gone, gone, gone._

_Forever._

And now here I sat, after seven hours of silent tears and sleep, on New Years' Day, with the plan to end it all. 

This had not been the only horrid thing that had happened, though. Just the perfect event to send me over the edge. As a child, I had low self-esteem and few friends. I felt as if no one wanted me there, and after so long of taking that, I began to self harm and starve myself at age 13. It was about six months before anyone noticed a damn thing. My grandmother had seen the cuts and flipped out. She wasn't angry; just really confused. She begged me to stop, and I lied through my teeth with the promise of 'never doing it again'. But once started, I couldn't stop. I refused to. The scars accumulated, and before much longer, the skin of my left arm was light pink, no longer the perfect white it had been just months before.

I was looking at that arm right then, as I sat on that counter. I shook the pill bottle, which was sadly almost empty. But, i was small. I could probably take the last four in the bottle and it'd do me in, I thought. Without any more hesitation, I opened the pill bottle and swallowed the powerful pain medication one by one. When the medicine was gone, I picked up my razor for what I hoped was the last time and tore the skin of my unscarred right arm open. The first cut stung like a bitch on the unmangled surface, but one cut became two and two became six. The number grew until I'd lost count, when I'd started feeling the meds. I threw down the razor with a peaceful smile and laughed to myself. 

"You're finally done, Ryder. No more of this bullshit. Maybe now people will recognize you..."

And that was when I faded away.

~

Passing through the realm of unconsciousness to the realm of peace and darkness was a beautiful experience for me. I'd felt... relieved. Calm. Carefree. I thought I was dead, and it was the nicest feeling I'd had in a while. But then reality set in. And reality sucks dick.

I woke up to an obnoxious beeping noise and the sound of people bustling about in a room. When I chose to open my eyes, I noticed a bright light over my head that glared into my sensitive pupils; a lamp? No, it was one of those lights fixed in the ceiling... Shit. I was in the hospital. Shit, shit, shit.

I failed.

And now I probably had hell to pay.

I remember how my mother looked when she first saw me. She was really relieved at first, the apples of her rosy cheeks rising in a smile, her light blue eyes alight with thankfulness. But as she took in the bandages on my arms and the tubes in my nose, those blue eyes turned cold and the lips turned into a frown. She crossed her arms over her chest and asked me to explain why I had done such a rash thing. It took me a while to work my voice up to that, and after I'd told her, she nodded and tapped her foot. She looked down at the floor, then sighed.

"Ryder, I can't deal with that right now. And I'm not forcing your grandparents to take care of you any longer than they must. This upcoming school year, I'm sending you to a boarding school in Sweden. It has a bunch of kids in it just like you."

She explained the school in more detail to me, and that was about it. I lived with her for a few months and then bam, I was shipped off to Stockholm.

And that's where all of this nonsensical, insane and erratic crap happens to start.

 


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder makes a new friend...  
> Or three.

White. Blankets of white covered everything except for the jet black two-lane road we'd been driving on since entering Sweden. My driver, a man from Denmark, had explained to me that Sweden was having unusually cold weather, especially for this time of the year. I'd shrugged off his warning about 'how bad the snow could be' or that 'the blizzards could be like hurricanes with snow' or any other thing he'd said. Toronto wasn't nearly as cold as Sweden, but I did know how to deal with snow.

He'd stopped talking about half an hour prior, and I'd been sitting in the backseat, staring out of the foggy window. The only thing that was interesting, the only thing that ever caught my attention on that long drive, was the fact that there was just so many trees. It was like a forest, a forest covered in frost. I laughed at myself pitifully. _Nobody tries to be poetic about trees, idiot,_ I thought offhandedly. _Trees aren't special. They grow almost everywhere, except for the Sahara or Antarctic. The only purposes they serve are to give us oxygen and house animals. Yet people put them of such high importance..._

My thoughts faded out as I finally fell into a dreamless nap.

~~~

I was shaken out of a decent slumber by the Danish driver shaking my shoulders lightly. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at him.

"We're here, Miss Williams."

My name sounded strange in his accented voice. I sighed, sat up as slow as possible, and stretched. It had been at least a three hour drive, and I felt completely dead. I swung my legs over the seat and got out of the car. I took my bags from the driver and waited. He smiled at me warmly.

"Thanks for taking me here... I-I'm afraid I d-don't know your n-name..."

"Mathias. Mathias Kohler. And it's all in a day's work, Miss," his blue eyes were cheery and alight with pride.

"Well thank you, M-Mathias."

"Again, no problem..." Mathias turned, but then stopped. "You know, you remind me of a dear friend I have back in Copenhagen. Sweet and polite. A thinker, too."

I laughed awkwardly. He got back in the car and I waved him off, and then I turned to face the gigantic campus that spanned out before me. Students littered the snow-covered pavement, walking around rather freely. I passed by a group of kids who were drawing terrifying images I'd only seen in my worst nightmares. I passed by a girl who was mumbling to herself agitatedly and looking around in paranoia. I felt my eyebrows raise. The people here were probably the type to stay away from. I felt my body close as much as it could while carrying heinous amounts of luggage. I let my eyes lower to the ground.  **  
**

That wasn't a great idea though; I immediately ran into what felt like a brick wall. When I stumbled back and looked up, I saw a tall man with sandy hair staring down at me. He was holding a binder that read, 'English 3'. He smiled at me, though I had a look of fear on my face. 

"Well hello there! Are you a new student here?"

The kid's accent was thick, and sounded Russian. He had a light, fun voice, but his smile seemed less than normal. It reminded me of the Cheshire Cat. I nodded quickly and felt myself shaking, either from the cold or from fear, I didn't know. The boy tilted his head as he looked down at me, looking confused. Then, he must have had an idea, because his head popped right back up with a velocity I'd never seen before. he smiled once again.

"Oh! You probably want to know my name, da? Well I'm Ivan Braginsky, and I'm from Russia! It's nice to meet you!"

He held out a hand for me to shake, and I took it cautiously, but instead of actually shaking it, he began to pull me along with him. Ivan began to sing to himself, and as badly as I wanted for him to let go of me and let me run away, I did nothing. He was a foot taller than me, and probably had a one hundred pound advantage. I let him drag me through the snow. We were causing several of the studentes to look at us with strange smirks or raised eyebrows. Some even laughed and I felt the anxiety grow even more in my chest. Eventually, Ivan stopped right in front of a building about three stories high. He smiled the creepy grin at me and said, "I want you to meet a friend of mine!"

I felt my face scrunch up a little with worry. "O-o-okay..."

Ivan opened the door and led me inside of a warm, well-lit building. The doors on each side of the hallway had numbers and letters on them, like 504A and 512C and so on. I looked at them, not knowing what was inside, but then was stopped dead in my tracks. Ivan let my hand go, and he pointed to a lanky boy with bright red hair. His skin was pure alabaster and he was dressed in a button down shirt with black jeans and filthy black boots. He looked at me directly, and I felt the frigidity of his gaze. He gracefully pushed his hair back a little and gestured to me while looking at Ivan. 

"Who's this?"

Ivan jumped up and down excitedly. "This is a new girl that I found stumbling around campus! She's so cute, isn't she?"

The redhead held out a hand to make Ivan stop. "Does she have a name?"

"Maybe! I didn't ask, and she's so quiet!"

The lanky boy rolled his eyes. He reached over and slapped the back of Ivan's head. "Idiot. Ye need to ask the name of girls before ye drag 'em somewhere." He turned to me. "What's yer name, lass?"

I forced myself to speak. "R-R-Ryder. Ryder W-W-Williams."

The boy laughed and smiled at Ivan sardonically. "Yer right. She is cute. Well, Miss Williams, I'm Alistair McConnell."

I looked up into the boy's eyes and nodded. "A-Alistair. Okay. I'll remember th-that..."

He smirked. "Cat gotcher tongue, love?"

My face grew warm and I found myself staring at my beat up furry boots. "N-No."

"Well, then, if yer so good with speakin', then tell us why in the hell yer here." Alistair leaned against the wall once more, Ivan following suit. 

"I-I'd rather n-not..."

Alistair scoffed. "Typical. I bet yer parents think yer crazy and they sent ye here fer no good reason at all, am I right lass?"

"No!"

My voice had broken above my normal range and had come out like a shout. I recoiled from the volume of my own voice and looked down at the floor again. I snuck a peek, and Alistair exchanged an extremely confused glance with Ivan. Ivan nodded at Alistair, and the redhead came over to where I was standing. He tilted my chin up so I could look at him. I felt myself tremble with fear, but nothing came. He simply patted the top of my head and rejoined Ivan on the wall. I let out a breath. Ivan piped up.

"So, do you need to find the girls' dorm? We're in the Arts building right now, by the way."

"Y-yes... I do..."

"Well, we'd help ye, but we're not allowed in there. Sorry, princess," Alistair replied sharply. He walked away from us angrily. 

Ivan stood by me as we watched him go and whispered, "Sorry. He's good a mood disorder."

I simply nodded, feeling the guilt fill me to the brim. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked up at Ivan. 

"So you can help me?"

"Oh, no, I can't go in the girls' dorm. I'm not allowed for different reasons. I mean, boys are allowed in there, I dunno what Alistair was talking about..." Ivan thought for a moment. "Oh. I know. Hold on."

Ivan pulled out a phone and began to write a message to someone. I tilted my head. This really wasn't something I'd expected. A boarding school for crazy kids that allowed you to have phones? What fuckery was that?

Ivan finished the message, sent it, and smiled. "Okay! Someone will be taking you there. But, I warn you, she's not really that nice..."

"What d-do you mean b-by that?" I cringed a little.

"You'll see."

About five minutes of silence passed before the door behind us opened and we heard the distinct sound of heeled shoes clacking on the tile floor. Ivan turned around and called out a greeting. "Lovina!"

I turned to see who he'd called out for. I saw a girl, quite a bit taller than me, give Ivan a brief high five and look at me skeptically. She had a dark olive complexion and unruly, dark brown hair. She had hazel eyes that glistened with contempt and distrust, and I already got a bad vibe from her. She was dressed in a long black coat and black gloves. She raised a thin eyebrow at me and laughed spitefully. She then turned to Ivan and snorted, "She doesn't look like much. I was expecting really cute. Not... Innocent looking."

Before Ivan could respond, I spoke up. "E-excuse me? But, uhm... You don't even know me. So do not j-judge me."

Lovina laughed mockingly and looked down at me. She placed her face only inches in front of mine and growled, "Don't fucking talk to me like that."

I flinched a little and backed away. She smiled, satisfied. Ivan pulled Lovina back and glared at her. "Don't scare her, you rough Corsican bitch."

Lovina's jaw dropped open and she shook her head. "Fine. I'll show little Mary Sue here to her room."

Lovina grabbed my arm carelessly and dragged me behind her, just like Ivan had. We went out into the blankets of snow and frozen air and she led me all the way across the campus. I got more strange stares from more strangers and looked back at them, deadpan. Lovina continued to drag me along, muttering to herself in a language I hadn't yet learned, since I didn't understand it. I let her take me through the snow until she stopped and let go of me. We stood before an enormous building, only two storied but covering twice the area of the arts building. She gestured to it and in a sarcastic tone said, "Here it is. Your new fucking home. Now let's find your room."

 The building we'd entered was warm and felt a lot friendlier than I'd thought it would. Girls bustled about, dressed in fluffy jackets or some expensive clothing brand. Some were talking about boys, others were discussing music. I looked around, wondering which one would be my roommate, unfortunately for her. Lovina stopped in the midst of it all and turned to me. "Let me see your papers."

I took a second before I understood what she meant. When I did, I fished a folder out of my bag. It held my new schedule, room assignment and a few miscellaneous bits of information. I handed it to Lovina, who snatched it away. She flipped the folder open and leafed through the papers with her quick, slender fingers. She grabbed the one with my room assignment and looked at the number. Her eyes widened and she giggled. I looked over her shoulder. 32B. The girl's name on the paper read "Saule Laurinatis" in bold, capitalized print. Hysteria colored my voice. "Wh-what's so wrong with her?"

"She's exactly like you... oh, the irony..."

I frowned and ripped away my folder and room assignment from her. "I can find the room myself i-if it pleases you, L-Lovina!"

I walked off, looking for the room. It was bound to be on the second floor, so I climbed the stairs and found myself exactly there. As I continued down the hallway, I noted that the room numbers went up by four on the even side. I passed room 28, and found the door to my new room open the next one over. I walked in and looked around. On one side, the room was decorated rather darkly. There were posters of rock bands up on the wall, the bedsheets were grey and a red guitar rested in the corner. On my side, everything was pristine and white. Pure. I set down my bags and began to pull out the blanket that I'd brought with me until I noticed a dark haired girl with huge green eyes standing in the doorway.


	3. Architects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter with a roommate and a memory.

I straightened up abruptly and felt my heart begin to race. How long had this girl been standing there, watching me like a creep? When she saw my face, she shied away a little and looked at me sheepishly. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and walked back into the room. Holding out a shaky hand, she introduced herself. 

"You must be... My new roommate. Sorry for... scaring you earlier. I'm Saule."

Her voice was quiet, yet friendly sounding. I took her hand in mine and shook it.

"P-Pleasure to meet you. I'm Ryder."

She pulled her hand back slowly and went around me to get to her side of the room. She went to the back wall, and when she opened the door to what I assumed was a cabinet, I was surprised to see that it was a small refrigerator. She pulled out a can of some drink I'd never heard of, and she looked at me. She smiled nervously and rubbed the back of her head. "Would you like a soda? Water, perhaps?"

"N-no, thank you, th-though..."

I was thrown off by the girl's instant servitude. However, I shrugged it off and went back to unpacking all of my things. I walked over to what I assumed was my wardrobe and opened it. The racks were empty, so I started folding and hanging my clothes up. Saule got off of her bed and was at my side before I could register it. She tapped me on the shoulder politely, which made me jump. I turned to her. "Wh-what's up, Saule?"

She grabbed some of the hangers off of my new bed and replied, "I want to help!"

I thought for a moment and decided to let her, since she seemed like she really, really wanted to assist me. Whether it was out of kindness or fear, I wasn't so sure. At any rate, I had help. Over the course of the next few hours, Saule helped me hang up my clothes, put on my bedsheets and put up couple of pictures and posters on the wall. We conversed about several things, like family and hobbies. I found that we were pretty similar, as far as life went. Quiet artists who loved classic American literature. However, her situation had been very different from mine. She explained that her parents had died in a riot some years before. Her parents had been animal activists and big time lawyers. Her father was American, her mother a Lithuanian woman. She'd had two younger brothers, Eduard and Raivis, but they were put into separate foster homes than she was. 

"But wait," I said, interrupting her mid-sentence. "W-why are you here, then?"

"Ah. I was getting to that," Saule responded, her voice quiet and introspective. "Be glad you've never dealt with foster parents."

"Explain."

Saule let out a tiny laugh. "These... foster parents I had... They were incredibly rude and lazy. Neither of them had a job, but they wouldn't even get up to do chores or anything. So, whenever they wanted the house cleaned, they would scream and yell at me... If I did a single thing wrong, I'd be hit. Whenever guests came over... their 'friends'... They would force me to care to their every whim and desire. I was a slave for three years of my life."

Saule wiped a couple of errant tears from her face. "I got... really fed up. I kept all of the anger inside, and it exploded one day... The 'mother' had been berating me and hitting me, and I reached the breaking point. I started to hit her back, and when the 'father' came in, he yanked me off of her and began to beat me himself. He struck me to the ground and kicked in a couple of my ribs. However, I... I managed to get to a box I kept under my bed... It held a .45 that I'd stolen, just in case of something like this occuring. When he came into the bedroom, I shot him. Five times. And when I got to that... Woman... I used the last bullet on her. They decided to stick me in here, instead of prison. Because of my age. I'm only 14."

I jumped at her age. "You're 14?!"

Saule nodded. "I'm a sophomore, though. They just recently put me in here, this past March."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "Are you really smart o-or...?"

Saule shrugged. "I suppose? But I never thought so. Killing isn't a smart thing to do."

I shook my head, hard. After a moment of silence, I spoke once more, this time softly. "Where are you going after this?"

Saule sprawled out on her bed. "Probably prison. I'm not exactly sure. The evidence isn't exactly in my favor, since I was the only foster child they had. The only thing they have that could help me is my diary and the medical history. I have a small chance of going free."

I stood up as straight as I could and tapped my foot. "That's n-not fair!"

Saule shrugged again, her face neutral. "I've accepted my fate. I will face it..."

I sat down beside her on her bed. I patted her shoulder. "You're brave, you know."

"No. I've just experienced things that no one should ever go through. Now, come with me." Saule shot up and got off of her bed. "I have a couple of friends for you to meet."

I groaned. "No! I-I've already been dragged everywhere today... I've m-met three people already..."

Saule looked at me and cocked her head. "Who, if I may ask?"

I sighed. "This Scottish kid, Al-Alistair, i think. A really rude and p-pushy girl... Lovina. And this crazy Russian kid..."

Saule smiled in recognition. "Ivan?"

"Yeah."

She blushed, hard. "Oh, he's... He's something..."

I laughed a little coldly. "Yeah, really."

"Well, if you'd rather sit here and listen to music or read, that's okay. Relaxation is always really good," Saule patted my back. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Saule, don't worry. I can do it m-myself."

Saule nodded and left the room, leaving the door open. I threw my suitcases under my bed and sat down on the mattress. I pulled my skinny legs to my chest and curled myself into a ball. This school was... Strange. Never in my life had I met so many eccentric people in one day. I wondered what was wrong with all of them. Well, besides Saule. She was a girl who'd been pushed to far. A girl with more than meets the eye. Her story had made me feel guilty. I'd had loving grandparents and parents that did care, if only a little bit. And I threw that away because my dad died. Saule had nothing. And I'm sure most of these kids didn't have much either. Maybe most of them were sent to this school by their government. I didn't know, and I wasn't planning on finding out quite yet. 

On top of the desk that Saule and I shared was a framed picture I'd put there of my father and I. I remembered that night very well.

~~~

_"You want up on my shoulders, sweetie?"_

_My dad yelled the words at me. I had been jumping for the past half hour to try and see the band on stage, the one I'd come to this concert for. I looked up at my dad and smiled. I nodded and yelled back, "Yes please, Dad!"_

_Before I knew it, my dad had hoisted me into the air, and there they were. Rise Against._

_I remember seeing Tim singing and screaming his heart out. I remember my dad doing the same below me. I recalled when the band had begun to play my father and I's favorite song. We'd played the song on countless video games AND in real life. He'd sung, I'd played my bass. And now, we sang in unison._

_"Do you still believe in all the things that you stood by before?_

_Are you out there on the front lines, or  at home keeping score?_

_Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate?_

_Or would you rather be the architect of what we might create?"_

_At some point, Tim had called for the entire crowd to chant out what I thought was the coolest part of the song. My throat had begun to feel raw, but I pushed on._

_"Don't you remember when you were young and you wanted to set the world on fire?_

_Somewhere deep down, I know you do!_

_And don't you remember when we were young and we wanted to set the world on fire?_

_'Cause I still am, and I still do."_

_I remember that when the concert was over, my dad dragged me by the hand to the parking lot, all the way to the back. When I asked him in a hoarse voice where we were going, he simply said, 'You'll see.' After walking for a few minutes, we ran into a crowd of people. They were gathered around a big bus, and I realized exactly what was happening. My mouth flew open._

_"Dad! Are we...?"_

_He smiled and nodded excitedly. I recall that I almost started crying. The crowd began to dissipate quickly, and soon, I was face to face with the man that was my idol. Tim McIlrath._

_He greeted my father and I, and I grabbed Tim's hand when he offered it and shook it. I began to cry uncontrollably, and Tim asked me what was wrong. I let out another sob and responded, "You don't know how important your band is to me. You guys keep me going through every day."_

_Tim said nothing, but pulled me into a hug. He turned to my father and asked, "You're her dad, I assume?"_

_"Yes sir," he replied proudly._

_"Your daughter must be kickass. Thank you guys for coming to the show."_

_I let go of Tim and stood next to my dad. He had taken out his camera and asked Tim if we could get a picture with him. Tim happily obliged and got behind the camera with us. We gave him one final hug and thank you, and we went back to the car. My dad smiled when we pulled out of the parking lot._

_"I hope you had fun, Ryder. I'm glad I could get you out of your room so you could go with me."_

_I looked up at my tall father, with his dark hair and friendly smile and said, "Wouldn't have had it any other way, Pops."_

_  
_~~~

I felt the tears hit my cheek. The memory wasn't old, which was why it had hurt so bad. It had actually only been a month before my dad's death that he'd taken me to the concert. I looked at the picture again and smiled painfully. I looked at my dad, grinning cheesily as always, and Tim, one of the most perfect human beings in the universe. I then looked at myself. I actually looked happy in the picture: a rare occurence. That night was possibly the best of my life. But now, there would be no more. My dad would never smile the same again, and I'd never be daddy's little girl ever again. I felt the pain in my chest grow until I sobbed wildly. It wasn't fair. My father had been a great man, though not exactly in my life. He did what he could for me when he could, and I never got to tell him my thanks to him for being there any chance he got. 

I felt horrible all over again when I realized that maybe it had been my fault that he died or something. Sure, I didn't believe in God, but I believed in karma. My unappreciative nature towards my father allowed him to be taken from my mother and I. Or, maybe I was just trying to rationalize his death by giving someone some sort of fault. Who better to take the blame than me?

I heard someone knock on the door frame and I turned. I wiped my eyes quickly when I saw that it was Alistair. I crossed my arms and frowned at him.

"The hell do you want?" 

"I can't come in to talk to a friend?"

"We're hardly friends. Y-you turned away from me when I met you," I kept my tone nonchalant.

"Look, I'm sorry, lass. I've just got some issues, ye see. A lot of 'em, actually."

I stood up. "We all do."

Alistair simply shook his head, and, like before, got up and left the area without a word.

I let out a frustrated grunt when he was finally gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason the title of this chapter is 'Architects' is because the song mentioned is Architects by Rise Against. If you guys don't know that song, check it out. Great song by one of my favorite bands.  
> By the way, guys...  
> Alistair=Scotland  
> Ryder=Fem!Canada  
> Saule=Fem!Lithuania
> 
> Y'all know the rest.


End file.
